Stigma: Thought
by PlasticWings
Summary: Stork x Tit . Stigma . PostStory. You’re older now. You’re wiser, you’re stronger, you’re calmer. What was the cost for maturing, though? Your happiness.


**Thought**

Stork x Tit | Stigma | PG | Post-Story 

You're older now. You're wiser, you're stronger, you're calmer. What was the cost for maturing, though? Your happiness. Sometimes I ask myself if I really wanted you to change. I'm not sure of the answer. When I wake up in the morning, for a moment, I think I'm going to see that smiling, blonde-haired boy laughing. Instead, when I open my eyes, I see a depressed teenager lying next to me, mad at the world. 

Where's your compassion? Where's the love you used to show to everyone. To me, to strangers we passed on the street, to the waitresses that brought our food? It's gone. You have a reason to be depressed. There's no one for you to bring it all down on. You have to lash out at me. It hurts, even if my face doesn't show it. It's not like you can see my face, anyway. But it still hurts. 

I love you. You have to realize that. I want you to know that, as you sit there pretty. Your gray eyes staring off into space. What do you see? Black? At night, when it's dark, I try to imagine if that that's what the world is like for you. Nothing. Just dark. 

Are you ever afraid? I would be, lost in that darkness. If I moved forward, it would be the same as if I moved right, or back, or just stayed in one spot. I wouldn't know where I was going. I wouldn't know if anyone was really there. It would be just me, and the black. Or maybe your sight is filled with things that don't make sense. Shapes that aren't real. Everything might be menacing, and I understand that. I know that maybe that's what's gotten you on edge. But still…why do you have to take it out on me? 

I walk over to you at the table. Your face is stoic. If you hear my footsteps approaching, but you don't show any sign that you do. You're stronger, now. You're more independent. Do you need me? Have you outgrown me? Am I just some worn-out teddy bear from your childhood? Don't ever become that strong. I need you. I don't care if you don't need me, because I need you. 

You barely acknowledge me as I stroke your light hair between my fingers. Beautiful. I let my fingers trace your cheek. Soft, smooth skin. At last, you turn and face me. 

"Stork." With a little hesitation, your hand takes mine away from your face. All of these little things show your feelings. You don't have to say it out loud. You don't want me anymore. 

"Yeah?" 

You keep staring at me, blankly, unseeing. My one wish in the world is for you to see again. I know that's all you want. Remember those Christmas's we used to share? That old, tired holiday from before the war? You told me that your family celebrated it. I'm your family now. I celebrated Christmas with you. When I asked what you wanted, you used to say "nothing," but I know you. I know the unspoken words your lips. The words that you longed to whisper. "To see again." 

You start to say something, then think against it. You turn away again, back to the window. When you're not saying biting things to me, you're ignoring me. When did you change so drastically? Why didn't I notice? "What time is it?" 

I'm startled, but I don't show it. "Past four." 

A scoff escapes you. You drag your chair, somewhat discreetly, away from me. "It doesn't matter. It all seems the same to me." 

All I want is for you to laugh again. 

I sit down on a chair across of you. You refuse to look at me now. Cold. Unloving. Where has all your love gone? Did it slowly drain out when I wasn't looking? Maybe you dropped a little of it each time we changed hotels. Each time we packed up and moved on. Or maybe…you were trying to give it to me. 

I wanted it. I wanted you. But you were so small, so fragile. You were traumatized. I didn't want to take advantage of you But all you wanted was me. I wanted to give myself to you, but I couldn't. You might not understand why. I didn't want to hurt you. But do you want me now? I'll give myself to you now. Completely yours. 

"What's wrong?" I ask. I won't give up. 

You turn to me. Even if your face is to me, and your eyes seem to be focused on me, they're not. Your eyes are looking past me. They're looking to somewhere I'll never be able to see. "Everything." Plain answer. 

I was waiting for you, for all these past years. I was waiting for you to grow older. Now here you are. Older. But you don't want me anymore. Not like you used to. I should never have waited for so long. 

"Everything," I repeat. 

You nod. We're silent for a moment. We never used to be silent. You would always fill up the empty space between us with chatter about what your life used to be like, or with a dream you had, or a pretend adventure you played out in your mind. Now we're quiet. You don't speak of dragons and princesses anymore, and I don't listen. 

"Talk to me," I say at last. I want you to drop your guard. Let your emotions go. I'll take them. I'll always – 

"I hate you." 

I bet you know, even without your sight, that you took me by surprise. You don't mean your words. You can't mean your words. You don't know what you're saying. 

"Tit, I-" 

"This is all your fault!" You stand up, your hands clenched tight against your side. The same hands that used to curl around mine. That used to pet me. Petting me, stroking me, like I was a cat. You didn't know any other way to touch. "Everything is your fault!" You turn your head away, but you're voice isn't so sure now. Not so stubborn. Maybe you still love. "If it wasn't for you, I would still be able to see." 

I'm calm again. Your words are scratching my heart again and again, tearing at it slowly, but I am calm. I know how to be emotionless when I want. To feel nothing is easy. "If it wasn't for me, you might be dead." 

"That's not true! I would have survived." But now you're defensive. You're anger is still there, but it's not the same. "I could have lived on my own." 

"Well." I stand, and walk over to you. Slowly, gently, so you're not taken by surprise, I wrap my arms around you. "I couldn't have." I hold you tight, and I never want to let you go. I love you, my stubborn, tired, bird. 

Now you're crying, sobbing. I feel damp on my shirt, seeping to my chest. Damp, yet warm. That must be your soft breath, labored between sobs. "I hate life. I hate it. I want to die Stork, please let me. I can't see. I can't do anything if I can't see!" 

"Ssh, ssh," I whisper as I hold you closer. You're taller now. I can rest my chin on the top of your head, where as you used to barely make it past my waist. Growing little boy. I'm going to be here, watching, waiting, to see you into adulthood. I want to see the little boy I raised grow up, but not like this. I don't want you to grow into a cruel man. I've had enough with them. 

"Everything's going to be alright." 

"How can you say that?!" You push me away, angry again. You have no patience left. You must have used it all up when you tried to accept your blind fate. Fate is blind. 

"There's nothing wrong with you," you go on. "You have everything you want, because you don't need much! You're so simple! I hate you!" No one will hear your shouts. We're the only ones renting a room in the hotel tonight. It would be so much easier for you if we stayed in one place, but after years of searching…we're too used to moving around, even if we have nothing to look for any longer. 

I pull you over to the bed. "You can hate me all you want." 

Your blank eyes are glaring at me now. A spark of life behind them. "See? You don't even need me." 

Now I'm angry. "That's not true. I do need you." 

"That's a-" 

"I love you." 

You shut up. Your eyes wide, your mouth hanging open. I watch you carefully. I watch as you regain some control over your body. You shut your mouth defiantly. I've never said anything about love to you before. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I was raised to feel nothing. You were raised to feel everything. 

Now, it hits me. Now I can imagine how abandoned you must have felt. Each time you showed affection and care for me, I could only smile, I couldn't say a word. And you couldn't even see my smile. I see it all now. Without your eyes, you wouldn't be able to catch my hidden smiles, my soft eyes. You wouldn't have any idea that I loved you. 

You're nervous now. You're hands are yanking on the sheets under us. "Why are you saying this now? You're…you're just saying it so I won't hate you, right?" 

"No. I've always loved you." I move over and take you into my arms again. You're stiff in my arms. Unmoving, untouching. You don't trust me yet. 

You shake your head in disbelief. I see tears at the corner of your eyes, but you're stronger now. You don't cry as easily as you used to. "Why are you telling me this now? Why didn't you tell me before? I thought you didn't care for me. I thought you figured I was a nuisance because I was so needy. I thought-" 

I kiss the top of your head gently, my lips lost in the soft blonde streaks. "You think too much." 


End file.
